


Cherry Pickin'

by fictionalcandie



Series: Smitten 'verse [5]
Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-03
Updated: 2011-09-03
Packaged: 2017-10-30 05:02:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/328035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionalcandie/pseuds/fictionalcandie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam wants to try something different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cherry Pickin'

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kristina_bitch](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=kristina_bitch).



> Written for [kristina_bitch](http://kristina-bitch.livejournal.com/)'s prompt over at the [krisfansunite](http://krisfansunite.livejournal.com/) [Donors Choose dollar drive](http://krisfansunite.livejournal.com/614.html). [She wanted more from my older!Kris 'verse](http://krisfansunite.livejournal.com/614.html?thread=87142#t87142), and this is what I came up with. For reference, this is set about a month and a half after With A Cherry on Top [ [DW](http://gailsauce.dreamwidth.org/75977.html) | [LJ](http://gailsauce.livejournal.com/76471.html) | [AO3](http://archiveofourown.org/works/210510) ], and also after Adam finds Kris's toybox (a story which is, as yet, unwritten).

Kris isn't in the bathroom anymore by the time Adam turns off the water and steps out of the shower, but the apartment's quiet except for the water Adam's dripping on the tile floor. Adam wraps a towel around his waist and goes looking.

He finds Kris in the bedroom, flopped face-first near the middle of his stupidly big bed, still completely naked.

Adam kneels up on the mattress and moves until he's next to Kris, can stretch out at his side. "Taking a nap?"

"I'm not sleeping, I promise. I'm just… resting. We're still going out."

"Uh-huh," says Adam.

"I told you we'd go to dinner; I'm _not_ falling asleep."

Adam puts a hand on the sharp blade of Kris's shoulder, rubs at the skin there for a second, before stroking down the line of his spine to the swell of his ass, splaying his hand and resting it there, the tip of his index finger just edging into Kris's crack. Bending, he lays his head on the spot where his hand started out, his hair dripping everywhere, and presses a quick, sloppy kiss to Kris's upper back.

"What's got you so tired, anyway? All that guitar playing wearing you out?" he teases.

"Mm. Your hair's wet," Kris informs him, without opening his eyes.

Adam chuckles. "So's yours."

"Least I pretended to dry mine. 'Sides, it's not the guitar playing."

Adam hums questioningly, and lays a few more kisses across Kris's back.

"Wearing me out," Kris clarifies. He wriggles against the bed, pressing back into the touch as Adam lets his finger slide further between his cheeks. "It's not the guitar playing. It's this really amazing blowjob I just gave my boyfriend in the shower."

"Amazing, huh?"

"What? You seemed pretty okay with that description when you were moaning it at me."

Adam grins, because yeah, that's fair, and kisses the side of Kris's neck. Then he lifts his hand and rolls away, yanking the towel from around his waist and tossing it to the edge of the bed before grabbing the lube and a strip of condoms off the bedside table and rolling back to Kris's side. Screw dinner — he'd rather have Kris than some stupid never-ending bowl of pasta. God, he just wants _never-ending Kris_ — Kris all day, every day, every where and every way Adam can think of.

Kris makes a startled noise when Adam slides the first finger in (easy, so fucking easy, Kris always so good at opening up and taking what Adam gives him), and gasps "Normally it's best to _ask_ before you do that," but as he says it he's spreading his legs a little more and tipping his head so Adam can mouth at his neck, so Adam's not particularly worried that he actually minds.

"I already know what the answer'd be," says Adam, and licks a line up the clean, smooth skin under Kris's jaw, just the faintest trace of shaving cream taste but under that Kris, all Kris, warm delicious Kris skin that Adam can't get enough of.

"You can't just—" Adam curls his finger, rubbing _just there_ , and Kris's breath hitches and his voice falters. "—ah, just, just _assume_ , Adam."

"I can't?"

"Just because somebody usually wants one thing, doesn't mean he wants _that_ , all the time."

He's trying to make his voice sound stern, Adam can tell, trying to put on the 'teaching now' tone that Adam loves (because Kris, talking all reasonable and trying to be bossy while at the same time swearing and flushing all over as he tells Adam what to do, how he wants it, is just _fucking hot_ ), but it isn't working, can't possibly work with Kris's face pressed into the pillow, with him beginning to pant already, from only Adam's finger in his ass and Adam pressed all down his side.

Adam hums encouragingly, anyway. He pulls his finger out, like he's going to stop, give Kris a break, rubs over Kris's hole for a second. "But, Kris," he says, at the same time he pushes back in with two fingers, "it _is_ what you always want."

The back of Kris's neck goes pink, hot under Adam's lips. His legs fall all the way open, ass pushing back against Adam's hand.

"Well, usually," Kris admits, and Adam crooks his fingers just to hear him stop talking and groan. "I, fuck— yeah, okay, I do, but, like, not _everyone_ does, consideration is key, Adam, and you can't—"

"I don't care about 'everyone'," says Adam. He starts to work in another finger, knowing it'll shut Kris up, at least for a little, then something occurs to him and he stops. "Oh. _Oh_. I just realized, we haven't tried— I mean, I've never asked— Kris, should we do, you know, the other way?"

It takes Kris a few moments to say anything, but when he finally stops trying to shove back on Adam's fingers, he says, "Oh. I guess. Yeah. Okay, yeah, you should probably know what the other way 'round is like, shouldn't you, in case—"

"If you're about to say anything about me and other people, just shut up now," Adam interrupts, slightly sharp.

"Right. Sorry."

"But— I mean. I'd like to try it. Do..." Adam pauses, takes a breath and starts to work his fingers again, no thrusts, just rubbing them against Kris's inner walls this time, before he asks, "Do you? Want to?"

"We can, yeah," Kris says immediately, but to Adam it doesn't seem very enthusiastic.

"Do you _want_ to?"

"I guess. I— Usually, I prefer… the way we usually do it, but I can. The other way's nice, too."

"You've done it before?" asks Adam.

Kris grins, slow and knowing, a slyer expression than Adam usually sees on his face, especially going thoroughly pink the way it is now. "Yeah," he says, husky, and his eyes are a little unfocussed like he's remembering something, "I've done it."

Adam swallows the urge to ask, to demand to know what that look is about, to know every detail of every thing Kris has ever done with anyone else, and along with it he swallows some pride. "So, should I— I don't. I mean, what should I do?"

"What you do to me," is Kris's answer, along with a pointed roll of his hips, where he's still stretched on Adam's fingers, "only, to yourself."

"Mm." The way Adam wants to respond to that is push in deep and curl all three fingers hard against Kris's prostate, so he does, and scrapes his teeth against the side of Kris's neck for good measure. "I don't really think dirty talking at myself is gonna make me open up faster."

"Nngh. Fuck. _Shut up_."

"Uh-huh. Because that's really what you want."

Kris huffs. "Weren't you gonna do something?"

Adam hesitates, gives Kris a long slow pump of his fingers as he considers, then pulls them out entirely. He ignores Kris's whimper and leans down toward the floor, reaching with his clean hand to pull Kris's toy box out from where he kicked the stupid thing last night when he almost tripped over it, getting up to use the bathroom. He's pretty sure what he's looking for is near the top, thinks he remembers seeing— Ah, just there.

He grins.

—

Kris hates the abrupt emptiness when Adam pulls out, clenches down on nothing before his body remembers that won't help, and smothers a second noise of loss in the pillows. He knows he shouldn't feel this disappointed, shouldn't be expecting anything to happen _that way_ , given what Adam just agreed to do, but he can't entirely help it.

"Adam," he starts, forcing himself up on his elbows and looking over to where Adam's pulling himself back up from over the edge of the bed, smiling smug about something. "If we're gonna—"

"Shh, just a sec— lie back down," Adam interrupts, his hand finding its way back between Kris's legs— back inside him, pushing, yes, just right— and what, why is he— "I wanna— hang on."

"You— What are you—"

"Shh," Adam says again, and he's pulling his fingers out.

Kris arches back automatically, pushing back before he realizes it in a futile effort to keep those fingers inside him, and for a second it seems like it works, because he's being filled again, but— That isn't Adam's fingers. He knows the feel of this, it's— Adam just—

"What?" he gasps. "Adam, is that my— Did you just—"

Adam's nuzzling the back of Kris's neck again, mouthing at his nape, and he murmurs a smug, "Your favorite."

Kris just stares down at his pillow for a stunned second, body instinctively clenching around the thickness inside. Which, yeah, fuck, that feels good, he _loves_ that, can't believe Adam went and did _this_ right after declaring a desire to try getting fucked, like he _knew_ Kris would feel disappointed (or, maybe, he just wants Kris _full_ ; seems like it's one of his main goals in life to see him that way as often as possible), and Kris _fucking loves that too_ , but. But.

"How the _fuck_ do you know which plug is my favorite?"

And Adam laughs, actually _laughs_ at him, sounding breathless and, okay, um, way more turned on than he did a few seconds ago. "So, you do have a favorite, then? Awesome, I just grabbed the biggest one."

Kris groans. Yeah, that would be his favorite, all right.

"Fuck," he says, clenching again just to feel it, then rolls over (stifling a gasp as the plug shifts and presses against his prostate) enough to shove at Adam's chest. "What was I _just_ saying about _asking_?"

Adam smiles at him, unabashed, happy and full of all sorts of delicious intent. "Kris," he says obediently, failing to sound serious (if he's even trying at all, which Kris kind of doubts), "do you mind if I plug your greedy ass before you fuck me?"

"Ask _before_ ," Kris says, insistent, but he knows that with the heavy way he's breathing, and the slick, hot way his cock is dragging against Adam's belly now that he's not riding it against the bed, it's probably pretty much as good as giving permission. "Fuck, Adam."

Adam leans in and kisses him.

By the time Adam pulls away, leaving Kris's mouth feeling swollen and slick and used, Kris is breathing hard and can't really remember why Adam's actions should annoy him.

"So," Adam says, letting go of Kris entirely. "Should, uh, should I do… this, then?"

Kris blinks at him stupidly.

"You know." Adam puts his clean hand back on Kris, trails it down his belly, wrapping around his cock and giving it two slow strokes. "Get myself ready, for _this_."

"Oh. God. Um, yeah?" Kris pushes himself up to sitting, staring at Adam to better ignore the feel of the plug moving inside him. "Unless you want— I could—"

But Adam laughs, a little tensely, and rolls his eyes. "You're not the only one who can fuck himself in front of people, Kris Allen."

"Okay," says Kris, agreeably, and reaches for the lube at the same time Adam tugs over his discarded towel and wipes his hands on it. As Adam tosses it away again, to the floor this time, Kris takes a steadying breath. "So."

"So," Adam says back, licking his lips.

"You've done it to yourself before, at least once, right?" Kris grabs the lube and presses it back into Adam's hand, sits back on his heels and smiles softly. "Haven't you?"

"I—" Adam clears his throat. "Yeah."

"So, do that, start from there."

Other than a faint, solitary tremble as he scoots up the bed and spreads his legs, Adam's hands are steady as he opens the lube and recoats his fingers and brings them down, bypassing his stiff cock and going straight for his entrance.

"That's it," says Kris, as Adam teases himself with just one fingertip, around and over and around again, "good, like that, don't go—"

Abruptly, Adam sinks his finger in past the second knuckle, a rough grunt punched out of his chest and his eyes shocked wide.

"—too fast," Kris finishes, shaky, quickly wrapping fingers around the base of his cock and squeezing. "Adam, damn it, what— you can't just—"

"If I can make you come just with these," interrupts Adam, sounding still too rough, "I _don't_ need you to talk me through opening myself up, okay? I know this part of what I'm doing, let me get it over with."

Kris bites his lip, doesn't say any of the many, many things he could, and lets Adam get on with it, which he does, working a second finger in faster and rougher than Kris would have.

Watching Adam's fingers going into his own ass makes Kris sweat, heats the back of his neck and those two spots high on his cheeks to the point he feels like they must be on fire. It's dirty, intimate and _filthy_ in a way that letting Adam fuck him with those same fingers isn't. Kris wonders if it's because _this_ , he can see so clearly — he doesn't have a good view, when Adam's doing this to Kris; wouldn't be trying to look even if he _did_ , not when he could be feeling it and looking at Adam instead — or if it's just because of _what this means is going to happen_.

Topping isn't Kris's thing. It really isn't. He doesn't do it often (most recently during that weekend with Jake and Marco that still makes him blush even to think about), and he hasn't ever had a _thing_ about it before. But somehow, knowing why Adam's doing this to himself, knowing that in a few minutes, _Kris's dick is going to be in there_ , instead of Adam's fingers, is making him crazy. Possessive. _Desperate_.

"Yeah. That's— C'mon," encourages Kris, sliding closer, eyes still glued to Adam's hand working between his legs. Kris puts his own hand between them, rests it high on Adam's thigh, thumb riding the crease where it joins his hips. He bites his lip. "Adam."

" _Kris_."

Adam sounds like Kris feels. Kris has no idea what he means by saying Kris's name so raw and needy, but it's more than enough for Kris.

He slides his hand down and pushes a finger in alongside Adam's, shuddering at Adam's warmth, inside.

"Oh," Adam says, a revelation, and, "Shit, Kris," because Kris can't help himself, he's curling his finger away from both of Adam's, seeking.

He can tell when he finds what he's looking for, can feel it, knows it in the way Adam's legs suddenly go wide and wanton, the way he yanks all their fingers out and orders, "Okay, that's enough, just— I can take, come on, _do it_ already—" like he doesn't want to wait, can't stand this taking any longer than it already has.

Or maybe that's just Kris's brain, bleeding his own need into everything around him. Either way, Adam's grabbing a condom from the bed beside them, opening it practically one-handed and slicking it on Kris's cock. 

Then he's grabbing Kris by the arms, pulling him down, against Adam, and Kris slips around for a second, everything wetter and messier than he's used to between Adam's legs, but then he's got a grip on himself, lining up so all he has to do is roll his hips, and—

" _Fuck_."

Kris sinks in slowly, Adam tense beneath him and so _tight_ around him, his grip on Kris's upper arms just this shy of bruising. It's, God, it's been so long since Kris did it this way, he's not used to the slick clutch around his dick, and definitely not the knowledge that he's _the first person ever_ to do this to Adam (no-one's ever done this, no-one else has ever been just here, inside Adam, no-one's made him feel the things he's feeling now because of Kris, this is _Kris's_ , he'll never be able to take this back from Kris, even if he wanted to, not ever; he'll always have the memory of Kris's cock stretching him when he thinks of the first time he let someone do this) and it's lighting him up like matches to gasoline. The plug in his own ass shifts around and knocks against his prostate with every thrust, and Adam's making noises that Kris has never heard, like he's not _sure_ he likes this but he's enjoying it too much to stop, and there is just _no fucking way_ that Kris can last very long. Not like this.

Adam arches up, pulls him down to kiss.

"I can't," Kris gasps, into Adam's wide, eager mouth. "Adam, Adam, fuck, I can't— It's too— _Adam_ —"

He's not making sense, even to himself. To his own ears he sounds drunk, stoned; totally strung out and on the verge of falling apart. He has no idea what he sounds like to Adam.

Whatever it is, it seems to make _some_ sense to him, because he's shifting his hands on Kris's body, one coming up to cup Kris's face and gentle the kiss a little, and the other moving down, going to— going to— He's grabbing Kris's ass, pulling Kris in hard on the next thrust, holding him there, fingertips dipping down— between—

Oh, oh God, Adam's a fucking _bastard_ , he's going _right for_ — fuck, _that_ — tapping against the flared base, pressing and forcing it in a tiny bit more that it _can't even go_. And then he's got the edge of one finger under it, back of his nail brushing Kris's perineum, as he _starts_ to pull it out—

" _Fuck_ , don't you, _Adam_ —"

—then pushing it back in with his thumb, and _again_ , and—

"Shhhit," Kris slurs, and abruptly he's coming, buried in Adam, reduced to near-incoherence and a boneless mass as he slumps down toward the mattress, across Adam. He barely manages not to land with all his weight on Adam— and Adam hasn't even come yet, he's still hard, Kris can feel his cock, leaking now, against his belly.

"Shit," Kris says again, not much clearer, and flaps a vague hand up to pat Adam's cheek apologetically. "Sorry, I— Sorry. _Fuck_. I can— give me a sec, I'll— my mouth, do you want my—"

Beneath him, Adam groans, "You are _so fucking sexy_ , can I, oh god," and suddenly he's pushing at Kris, tipping him sideways onto the bed with a sloppy, absent kiss near his mouth, and before he knows it Kris is being rolled onto his stomach, mid-apology. He hears rustling, and a ripping sound, at the same time Adam pulls the plug out — Kris hisses at that, shudders and feels his cock jerk, _already_ , where it's trapped between him and the mattress, and it's _too much_ , he's only _just_ come — and then there's something else at his hole, blunt pressure forcing its way in and, just.

Oh.

_Adam_

Kris fists his hands in the sheets and keens deep in his throat.

_Oh_ , fuck, _yes_.

—

Adam's first thrust is practically brutal, all force and no finesse, just the urgent burning need to be _in_ Kris as soon as fucking possibly. He's still got a hand around his cock where he just finished rolling the condom on, too impatient even to wait and let go.

Kris makes a sound that does nothing to calm Adam and cants his hips up to take it better, practically _asking_ for it, even though he's still wordless.

"I don't even know," Adam gasps, pulling most of the way out only to slam back in again, "what to do about you, baby. You're just— you're too—"

Kris shakes, a full body shudder under him, and groans "Yeah, fuck. That, yeah, _harder_."

Adam doesn't even know what to _do_ with this man. He hitches Kris's hips up away from the bed for him, props him on his knees, because Kris apparently lacks the motor control right now to do it himself, and starts fucking him in earnest. It's not slow, and it's not careful, and Adam doesn't care at all, because Kris is chanting Adam's name in the voice he only uses when Adam's got him hard for the second or third time in a row and he feels _perfect_ around Adam, and—

Kris was just _in Adam_ , he's never had anyone— and now, Kris, Kris is always going to have that, be that, _Adam's first_ , in everything.

"Oh, god, Kris, oh god oh _god_ —"

Kris hasn't come again yet, when Adam presses in deep and lets go, but his cock is eager in Adam's seeking hand, hard thick and hot, and it only takes a few more strokes and the weight of Adam all down Kris's back to have him coming desperate and unsteady, hard enough that Adam can feel him even through the condom Kris is still wearing.

He moans, when Adam pulls out after a minute spent catching his breath, but doesn't move even as Adam hits the bed beside him.

Adam leans over Kris, brushes his hair — damp now from sweat, not the shower — back off his flushed forehead. "Kris?"

"Mnergh," is the only reply he gets.

Yeah, he was kind of expecting that. It still makes him grin.

God, he fucking _loves_ it when Kris gets all pliant like this, loose and easy and _all his_.

"Come on, baby, can't stay like this," he says, getting his hands under Kris's shoulders and easing him up. Somebody has to be the responsible one here.

—

Kris barely notices as Adam rolls him out of the messy spot where he's smeared lube from rubbing against the sheets, then strips off the condoms and heads to… somewhere, probably the bathroom. He checks back in just a little when he feels Adam wiping him down.

"Umf," he grunts, still staring vaguely at the ceiling. "Hi."

"So," says Adam. He sounds really pleased with himself. Kris can't be bothered to check and see if his face is as smug as his voice. He doesn't even care; he feels too good. "I guess we're not going out for dinner. Unless you want to get up and dressed…?"

Kris groans. His muscles protest just at the _suggestion_. "No. Fuck, no. I may never move again."

Adam has the nerve to _laugh_ at him, like this isn't completely and entirely _his_ fault. Kris tips his head and squints a glare in Adam's direction.

Adam smothers a grin and pets at Kris's face. It's probably supposed to distract him. (It works.)

"You hungry, though?" Adam asks.

"I could eat. I could eat _a lot_."

Leaning down to brush their mouths together, tender and gentle, Adam says, "Okay, okay. Stay here, I'll… make you a sandwich, or something."

Kris smiles and closes his eyes. "Mm, my hero."

And the best, most humiliating part of that — even as Adam laughs like Kris was joking — is that it's kind of totally true.

**Author's Note:**

> This work can also be read [here on DW](http://gailsauce.dreamwidth.org/82733.html) and [here on LJ](http://gailsauce.livejournal.com/83100.html).


End file.
